Shattered Heart A Jadyn James Story
by Harlowe Keets
Summary: Hermione Granger is severely altered after a horrific breakup with Ron Weasley, and a summer of terrible tragedies. She returns for her seventh year at Hogwarts, a new person entirely.
1. Prologue: Shattered

**Prologue**

**Shattered**

All the air was sucked from her lungs as the piece of paper slipped from her fingers. Hot tears gathered in her eyes and began to slide down her cheeks. The ink smeared and the paper crumbled until all that was left was a pile of soggy black paper on the floor.

Her heart seemed to stop as she thought of the words written on the parchment paper that had just dropped to the ground. It couldn't be real. It was the sickest of jokes. A lie. She had only to read it one time to memorize it.

_**Hermione,**_

_**I don't want to be with you any more. I hate you with every fiber of feeling in my body. I lied when I told you I was in love you. I'm not … I don't even like you. The thought of kissing your ugly face always makes me sick.**_

_**I only went out with you so that you would do my homework without complaining about it so much. I've been cheating on you all school year with Lavender. I was only your friend because you let me copy your homework, and because you saved me from detention in first year.**_

_**I think you're ugly, needy, and a snob who thinks she knows everything. I don't ever want to see you again, don't talk to me. If you send an owl back I'll ignore it. You want to know the truth? I could never love you, because you are an ugly, filthy know-it-all mudblood!**_

_**I'm not like the rest of my family. I'm not a filthy blood-traitor and I'm not going to ever be with you.**_

_**Ronald Weasley**_

Maybe it was Draco Malfoy trying to play an evil prank on her! Or one of the other Slytherin jerks. They were the only people that had ever called her a mudblood. The thought brightened her momentarily, but Pig had brought the letter.

She shook her head. No. That wouldn't be it. Nobody knew about first year. Nobody except Harry knew that Ron had told her he loved her. She laid back and cried silently. This realization renewed her tears. She began to sob in a fit of uncontrollable sadness. What was wrong with her? Why did he suddenly hate her so much?

But he had told her what was wrong with her… and apparently, this hatred wasn't sudden. He had always hated her… but never said anything. He'd always pretended to be her friend, always pretended to love her.

She couldn't breathe. She had… she had loved him, and only him, more than any other person in the world. Her heart had been his… and he'd mutilated it. She eventually found that the world around her was growing hazy. She welcomed it. She wanted to sleep.

She wanted… to be free. She welcomed the though of sleep. She wanted to sleep and never wake up. Far away from the feeling of not being good enough for the only guy she had ever loved in her entire life. Far away from the sad, heart-broken thoughts that pushed their way into her consciousness.

So she slowly cried herself into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She wasn't sure exactly how long she slept, but it was dark in her bedroom, whereas it had been morning when Ron's letter had arrived.

The letter.

Her tears were like the ocean waves, crashing to the shore that was her cheeks. One ray of sun found its way through her curtains and illuminated the full length, thinly black-framed mirror a few feet away from the end of her bed.

Her long, auburn hair reached her shoulders in a mass of bushy bed-head. Her skin was peach and freckled. Her eyes were brown and red from crying, with heavy bags under as though she hadn't just slept a day's full time. Her repression filled her with a mixture of overpowering rage and misery.

Reflected back at her through this mirror was everything that Ron hated. The reason she was miserable. Reflected back at her was a snob. An ugly, needy, know-it-all mudblood that the guy she loved… hated.

An expensive ocher colored ceramic lamp sat on her bedside table, in the perfect spot to allow nighttime reading in bed. The thin clear cord came unplugged as she reached out in a single, swift movement and tore the lamp fiercely from its place and hurled it across the room.

The lamp and mirror crashed into contact with each other. A loud, banging crash signaled the break of both fragile objects. The sound the lamp made was short, deep and loud as it broke; the mirror a higher, longer crash as the shattered glass crashed to her lightly tinted wooden floor.

The movement in the room forced the thick, dark green velvet curtain back over the small bit of exposed window and the momentary sunlight became blackness once more. Hermione's entire body shook with a mixture of a million feelings and thoughts that moved so quickly they were hard to sort out.

She didn't want to sort them out. She wanted to not think. She wanted to sleep...


	2. Chapter One: The Slytherin Side

**Chapter One**

**The Slytherin Side**

When she stepped through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, he caught sight of her and his jaw dropped slightly. He wasn't the only one. She was… divinely beautiful… in an odd sort of way. He'd never seen anyone like her before. She was tall and slim. Her body was perfect, curvy and carried by long, muscular legs. Her hair heavy black hair was sleek and glossy, the ends reaching the middle of her waist. He hadn't known hair could be so black.

Her facial features were gentle and her skin was ivory porcelain. Her eyes… had to be magic. They were pupil-less and… frightening. They were silver, literally sparkling like molten metal. They reminded him slightly of the moon.

She wore a plain black short-sleeved t-shirt with tiny silver skulls around end of the sleeves. The skulls had been charmed to glitter like her eyes. Under the black shirt she wore a long-sleeved gray shirt with black skulls on it and holes in the bottom of the sleeves to put her thumbs through. The gray shirt was longer than the black one and stuck out from under the black one.

She wore a black belt with large silver studs in it. Her pants, however, did not need holding up, which was good because the belt hung loosely off of her curvaceous hips. Her jeans formed perfectly to her amazing body, and she wore high-top black and white shoes.

She was walking right towards him!

"Hello, Ronald," Hermione Granger said to him. He looked confused, but pleased. She turned to the other young man standing next to him. "Hello, Harry."

"Hello…?" Harry said.

"Don't you recognize me?" she asked, her perfect lips curling into an emotionless smile.

"Do we know you?" Ron asked, not unkindly.

"You know who I used to be," Hermione told him, now she scowled… but her face still held no emotion. There was no anger behind her scowl, "Ronald Billus Weasley, don't you recognize me?"

His smile disappeared. He had only ever told one person that. Hermione. Harry snickered at the use of his middle name.

"Billus?"

But Ron wasn't listening. He was staring at this girl in front of him, trying to recognize her for who he knew she had to be. He saw very, very few similarities in her facial features. He hated her… but even this took him by surprise.

"Hermione," he choked out. Harry's laughter subsided instantaneously, he choked and his eyes grew wide.

"What… happened, 'Mione?" Harry gasped.

She didn't answer and her face remained entirely emotionless as she put her hand on Harry's face. He blinked, startled by the tenderness in her touch, the warmth of her skin. The rings on her fingers touched his skin and drew back from her warmth, making him cold. He didn't pull away, couldn't look away from his former best friend's face.

Hermione's new face came closer to his and she lightly kissed his cheek before walking away from him and Ron without a word.

She walked down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express, catching the looks of people inside of the compartments. Most actually stood up and poked their heads out of the compartments to watch her walk away from them. She ignored every stare, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

Hermione's face stayed emotionless as she walked to the Head's compartment. She slid open the door quietly and walked in, barely noticing the Head Boy, not caring what he was doing or who he was. She closed the compartment door behind her and he looked up.

Draco Malfoy looked up from his schoolbook, expecting to see the freckled face and bushy auburn hair of Hermione Granger. He expected to see her staring down at him in disgust and indignation. What he saw was highly more pleasing.

"I thought Granger would be the Head Girl," Draco said indifferently. The beautiful black haired girl's back was turned to him so that she could put her trunk away. She turned back around and sat down across the compartment from him.

"I am," Hermione said emotionlessly, shrugging. Draco Malfoy's amazing gray eyes shone with a bluer tint as they widened in amazement. It was impossible… yet there was no mistaking her perfect almond eye shape and plump, shining lips. This was Hermione Granger!

"What happened to your face, Granger," he burst out, a sad attempt at rudeness. His tone was amazed, not spiteful, and he was mortified by his sudden loss of insult ability.

"I just changed a lot over the summer, that's all," Hermione said, keeping her ivory face emotionless. He stared at her perfection for a long while before forcing himself to look away. He hated to admit it to himself, but Hermione Granger's beauty was perfection… no. Her beauty was beyond perfection. She drew his eyes. He couldn't stop looking at her.

So much had changed about her. Her eyes were literally hypnotizing with magic. Their metallic glitter made him want to stare at them forever. They were amazingly silver, with a single black ring around the outside of the iris. Her hair, too, was magical. It was darker than any black ever to exist before. It shimmered and shined in the light of the sun. Her skin wasn't white enough to glow… but somehow, she glowed anyway.

Draco wasn't sure if her lips were magic or if she was wearing lip-gloss. Either way, he smiled while looking at her perfect lips. Her top lip was thinner than her thick bottom lip, and both shone with sparkles, more pink than normal lips.

All of her freckles were gone. Her glowing face looked silky smooth. Even her voice had changed. It was satin and silk, running water… soft and enchanting. Desirable. He hadn't any idea if her body had changed at all because her school robes were usually twice as big as she was. Thanks to the ban of school uniforms, he could now see her shape. She had perfect curves and he enjoyed the sight of them.

He watched her carefully from behind his book as she stood up. She stretched up he arms and her body moved. He watched her muscles contract through her tight clothing as she grabbed a very thick, very large book from her bag.

The book cover was black and had neon sketches on the front like the graphics on a muggle computer. Flowers, tiny animals, a rainbow. He watched her emotionless face as she opened the book and began to draw. He realized that the book was a blank paper sketchbook. At least the pages had been blank.

She seemed to be working on a drawing that she had already started. He could see the top of the page. There was a big, ornately drawn "D" at the top, and what looked like the top of a window and curtains.

The drawing, even from the little bit of paper that he cud see, was the most detailed, most lovely drawing he had ever seen. Even the wall he saw was amazingly detailed and very good. Hermione Granger had exquisite drawing talent.

Had it been the "old" Hermione Granger, Draco might have stolen the sketchbook and torn the drawing into a million little pieces. But this wasn't the "old" Hermione, and he wasn't quite the same Draco. He didn't take the book from her. He sat and pretended to read his book, staring into her beautiful face and occasionally turning the pages of his book for convincing effect.

Hermione could tell that he was staring at her. His steely blue eyes gazed upon every part of her body, noticing every element of her physical appearance and taking in her every movement. The spell she had created and put on herself could feel his every glance and thought.

She couldn't have cared less. Plus, even if she did care, she wouldn't have shown it… she never did anymore. She finished touching up her drawing and closed her sketching book. She looked up at him. Her magical silver eyes met his amazingly steel gray ones for a moment before he turned back to the book he was pretending to read, his heart beating fast at the memory of her eyes locked with his.

"You're acting strange," she said, keeping the emotionless tone that sent shivers up Draco's spine. He forced himself to pull it together.

"You… look strange," he countered, and was instantly mortified by his stupidity. So much for pulling it together, Draco. She couldn't keep the smile from her face. He was trying very hard to insult her… and failing miserably.

"Then why do you keep staring at me?" she countered. There was much emotion now. It had crept into her enchanting voice and showed on her entire face. She was mocking him in such a playful manner. He blinked in surprise.

This was definitely a new Hermione Granger than he used to know. Last year, or any year before that, she never would have played with him like this. He was so stunned he didn't even answer her.

Her smile changed her entire face and made her something he hadn't thought could have been possible: more beautiful. When she smiled, the metallic glitter in her eyes sparkled more. They twinkled with life and glee. Her pale complexion brightened slightly and the sparkles on her lips went wild. When she smiled she… glowed. Not just in a figurative sense, although that came to mind as well, but she literally began to shine with warm light.

He was so dazed that all he could do was stare. Her smile widened and the glowing light that emitted from her pulsed warmer and brighter, the sparkles all over her body twinkling madly.

The compartment door opened. Less than a millisecond after the door began to slide open, Hermione's smile fell and all its magic was gone. She stopped glowing, the sparkles in her eyes stopped twinkling, and her face went emotionless once more.

A pretty girl with medium length brown hair and green eyes walked happily into the compartment, a smile on her face. She was medium height, and her clothes clung to her body nonchalantly. Her face was kind of pinched up, but she was okay looking anyway. He frowned though, at the sight of her. She was very plain looking after half an hour of staring at Hermione.

"Drakiekins!" she shrieked excitedly, running over and sitting on his lap. He looked at her with disgust. "I knew you'd make Head Boy. You're so smart." He frowned at her.

"Get off of me, Pansy," he said. She frowned and continued to babble on. He glared angrily at her and attempted to push her onto the seat beside him. The train jolted slightly and she fell instead to the ground. Hermione smirked for a second, but Pansy Parkinson caught it. She glared up at Hermione spitefully.

"Who are you then?" she asked rudely.

"Hermione Granger," she replied emotionlessly, "I would say 'pleasure to see you again', but I'm afraid it's really not." Draco smirked and sniggered as Pansy huffed and stood up. She got in Hermione's face and glared, attempting to stare her down. Hermione stayed emotionless.

"Freak," Pansy seethed.

"I'm not wasting my time, Pug Face Pansy Parkinson," Hermione said.

"Don't try and insult me, mudblood," she said.

"I don't have to insult you," Hermione said, "you go around making a fool of yourself, trying to get with guys who don't want you. You're so needy, Parkinson, you insult yourself."

Draco's eyes went wide. Hermione didn't notice. She stared into Pansy Parkinson's emerald green eyes as they filled with tears. In a lightning fast motion, Pansy raised her hand and attempted to smack Hermione in the face. Hermione was faster, catching Pansy's wrist and squeezing tight.

"Let go of me!" Pansy said. Hermione twisted her wrist and pushed her back. She fell to the coarse green carpet of the compartment, holding her wrist and trying not to cry. She stood up and ran from the compartment as Hermione adjusted herself to sit the way she had been sitting before.

"You're… so different," Draco said quietly. He felt as though he had just seen a side of Hermione Granger that nobody else ever had. He felt like he had seen… the Slytherin Side of Hermione Granger… but it didn't bother Draco. It intrigued him even more.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"Why the new look?" he asked, "and the new attitude?" Her face fell into a look of pain. Emotional pain. She ran her hand over her forearm nervously.

"It's nothing," she muttered, but it was an obvious lie. She opened her sketching book and ignored him the rest of the way to Hogwarts, resuming her emotionless look. He watched her the whole time, not even bothering to pretend to read as he stared at her, thinking deeply.

What could have made her change herself so much? The one and only goody-goody Hermione Granger had turned into a hot, dark and emotionless Slytherin-like goddess. She was, by far, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He was almost sure she was the most beautiful girl he would ever see.

The train stopped at Hogsmade Station, like it did every year. Draco ignored the fact that the train had stopped, standing up as he watched her grab a few of her things. He opened the compartment door for her and followed her out. She looked at him for a moment before disappearing into the crowd. Draco's friends stormed him at first sight.


	3. Chapter Two: Consumed

**Chapter Two**

**Consumed**

"That girl was hot!" Theodore Nott muttered to Draco, joining him with Blaise Zabini and watching Hermione disappear into the crowd. "Who was that? And Head Girl, too!" With each word Theo said, Draco's grin widened. "That girl is hot and smart!" Draco laughed and they looked at him like he was insane.

"You don't think she's hot!" Blaise asked, surprised but not disturbed. Nott looked entirely worried for Draco's sanity.

"Something has to be wrong with you," Theodore said, "That girl? Not hot?"

"Oh… she's hot," Draco said, nodding and grinning. They looked confused, and he laughed. He put his hand around each of their shoulders. "That girl, as you say, is Hermione Granger." They both looked at him for a moment. Blaise began to laugh. Theodore joined in.

"Yeah, right," Theo said, "I get it now. Man, if you think that you can keep _**her **_to yourself, you're insane. Even the Slytherin Prince couldn't keep her to himself. Other guys would go right through you to get someone that hot."

"A bunch of people already tried to talk to her," Blaise told them, "but she just stares at them or keeps walking. That's going to make everyone want her more. Hard to get."

"I swear, man," Draco insisted, indignant at their refusal to believe him, "that's Granger. You know, muggle born Gryffindor friend of Potty and Weasel. Granger!" They both laughed and clapped him on the back. Draco was stunned. They kept laughing as they rolled their eyes and walked away from him.

Draco finally grinned. Fine. If they didn't want to believe him, he didn't care. The look on their faces when they found out would be priceless, anyway. He smiled at the thought as he watched Hermione get into a carriage and close the door in Theo's face. Blaise laughed hysterically as Theo looked confused, walking back to his friend. Draco grinned.

"Tough luck, Nott," Draco said, grinning at his mate. Theo glared at him. Draco gave him a "watch this" type of look and opened Hermione's carriage door. He sat down across from her. She looked up at him blankly.

"Your friends just love me," she said with a small smile, looking down at her sketchbook. Her voice held a slightly playful emotion, and she glowed a little as she spoke.

"Yes, well," he began, "you've changed so much that you're almost likeable." Hermione smiled silently as she shaded something in her book. "I think Theo was going to cry when you shut the door in his face." Her smile grew slightly and her glow brightened a little. The little silver skulls on her black t-shirt gleamed, sparkling wildly at him.

"I tried to tell them who you were, but they didn't believe me," he continued. "They thought I wanted you all to myself." His goal was achieved as the carriages began to move. She looked up at him and smiled. Her eyes flashed with metallic sparkles. She was so gorgeous.

"Blaise said that you wouldn't talk to anyone who comes up to you." He was trying to act casual, but she could see through him like a newly washed window. With every word her smile widened a little bit.

Her glow was so beautiful. It was something that was hard to realize unless you stared for a long time or knew it was there. It pulsed a little bit brighter with each moment as she smiled knowingly at him. It was easy to know what he was going to say.

"But you talk to me," he finished. She was grinning now. Her eyes and the skulls on her shirt were glittering and flashing silver sparkles that moved wildly.

"Well aren't you special," she mocked playfully. He grinned back, unable to get over how beautiful she was when she smiled. Her smile made it impossible not to smile.

"Oh I feel special," he assured her just as playfully, smiling. Her smile softened, but her eyes were sparkling like crazy. She turned to her drawing again. "But…" she looked back up at him, "Why?"

"Ah…" she said, and she actually put down her pencil. She closed her book and looked at him, "Draco…"

"What did you just say?" he interrupted in awe.

"Draco," she said simply, "That's your name, isn't it?"

"Not usually when you're talking to me," he said, "I'm Malfoy or…" he shuddered at the memory, "Ferret."

"I'm not the same Hermione as I used to be, Draco," she said quietly, looking deeply into his blue/gray eyes. Her own eyes sparkled gently. "But… as I was saying. I'm not comfortable with talking to people."

"What is Pansy?" he asked.

"A pug," Hermione said, smiling.

"What am I?" he asked in mock horror and indigence.

"You," she said, relaxing truly for the first time. She put her head back and stretched her arms out on the back of the carriage seat. Then she looked at him, "are a duck."

"Why would you talk to a duck?" he asked. She smiled slightly.

"Well," she said, "I can talk to Harry. I talked to Ronald, but that's never going to happen again. I talked to Pansy because she's annoying. And I talk to you. I can't help it. No matter how hard I try I can't stop talking to you."

"Why did you change?" he asked. She sighed and looked out of the carriage.

'Depression…" she said simply, and rather quietly, "I'm… a deeply depressed human being. I didn't like myself. I changed."

"Why?" he asked.

"I…" she began, looking at him. She contemplated her answer for a moment, and shook her head. "Won't tell. It isn't important to you now. The world wouldn't be any different if you didn't know."

"Yes it would," he assured her, "As of this moment, I do not know. If you told me, I would know and the world would be just a little different."

"Draco," she whispered, looking at him. He found himself melting as her perfect lips formed his name and her enchanting voice spoke it. The situation wasn't made any better by her eyes, sparkling like molten silver. Her face held much expression now. Happiness, sadness, anger, confusion and frustration. She leaned foreword to stress her point, and her face was only a few inches from his.

"I just… can't tell you," she said, "Yet. Maybe another time, though." The carriage stopped. Draco's friends, Zabini and Nott, stared at her as she allowed them to see her two seconds worth of emotion. She lightly reached out and touched Draco's face before going emotionless again. She stood and walked away.

He watched her walk away from him, her hips swinging naturally as he studied everything about the way she walked. He stood slowly and saw his friends staring in amazement at him. He began to walk towards them, but a glitter caught his eye. He turned his head and looked down at the seat where the glitter came from. Hermione had left her sketchbook on the seat.

She smiled to herself as she walked from the carriage, "accidentally" leaving her sketchbook behind on the seat. She continued to applaud herself, feeling his eyes on her retreating back and the thoughts in his head.

Draco watched her walk out of sight.

"Whoa, Malfoy," Blaise muttered, "How'd you do that?" Draco's best friend's voice jogged him back… and the fact that Hermione had already walked out of sight helped.

"You there, mate?" Theodore asked. Draco looked down at them.

"Yeah," he said, "go on without me mates. I'll be there soon." They shrugged and left him alone in the carriage. He looked down at the glittering black sketchbook on the seat and debated.

Should he give it back to her or look through it? Maybe the book would tell him something about why she was so different this year. Maybe not… but even then he'd see her beautiful drawings. His debate took a bit longer than it probably should have as he found himself more concerned with her feelings than he'd ever been with anyone's before.

He duplicated it. He would give her back the real one and look through his copy later that night in the common room he would share with her that year. He hoped with all of his ability to hope that she wouldn't be angry or hurt when she found out that he'd duplicated her sketching book.

Draco took his time getting back to the Great Hall, even though he'd told his friends that he'd catch up soon. He walked up the Grand Staircase in a luxurious fashion, not caring how long it took to follow the directions he'd received with his Head Boy badge. Doing what they said, he found the portrait door on the fifth floor.

The portrait was of an angel. She had long blond hair and green eyes. She wore a floor-length white dress that was a bit tighter than an angel's dress should have been. In her hands she held a book bound in green. He was sure that she was supposed to be extremely beautiful.

He thought she was pretty… but that's all he saw, and this was an unnerving concept. He was sure that the day before, he would have found her desirably beautiful. Today, however, he just saw an angel. After looking at Hermione for most of the day, the angel was plain and undesirable. After a few hours of the new Slytherin version of Hermione… she was the only thing he could think about.

He had to stop and calm down. It wasn't right to be so infatuated with her so quickly. He was sure that these thoughts couldn't end happily.

"Password?" the angel asked. She had a pretty voice. Melodic. He found himself thinking, however, that Hermione's voice was prettier. He mentally kicked himself and pushed her out of his mind.

"Responsibility," he replied. The angel nodded and the portrait swung open. He walked into the Head's common room and looked around. It was smaller than the Slytherin common room, but only two people had to stay here. It was the right size.

The fireplace was made of a black stone with silver veins running through it, kind of like black marble, except that the veins within were silver and not white. The floor was carpeted in a deep, blood red color. The couch and chairs were black.

The couch was across from the fireplace; close enough to watch the fire but not to feel its warmth directly. In the corners of the couch were blood red throw pillows. The table in front of the couch was made of the same black stone as the fireplace, and there was nothing on the table. It was so clean and shiny that he could see the fire's reflection in its surface.

He saw three doors, stairs and a large, open space where the black wall should have continued. Instead there was a kitchen in mostly black. The black tiles shone bright and glossy due to the light on the ceiling. The cabinets were black, too, and the counters. The table was made of sleek, black wood.

There were four chairs, all black… though each had a single ivory rose on the back. The walls were all black, the cupboards were black and the cabinets were all black. The dishwasher was black, the oven was black and the refrigerator was black. The only thing in the kitchen that wasn't black was the single ivory rose on each of the kitchen chairs.

He walked slowly back to the common room and looked at the three doors. The one closest to the kitchen had a golden plaque on it with the words "Draco Kenneth Malfoy" in cursive letters. He frowned. His middle name made him want to throw up. It was his uncle's name. Kenneth meant fire, so his father had thought the name "Dragon Fire". Sure, that was an awesome name… but not when fire was Kenneth.

The door beside his didn't say anything. The one on the far left said "Hermione Jade Granger". Her middle name was Jade. It went well with her name. Not like Kenneth. Not only was it a pretty middle name, and not only did it go well with her first name, it was a pretty green stone and green was his favorite color. Although, the pretty jade stone was not anywhere near as beautiful as Hermione herself.

He shook himself. He was reading too much into things, and thinking about Hermione too much again. He opened the door to his room and walked in. It looked just like his room at home. His bed was a king sized four-poster bed with black curtains and silky black and green bedding. The pillows were green and black. The floor was made of black wood. Even the pictures on the walls and the placement of everything in his room were the same as at home.

He put his copy of Hermione's sketchbook on his bed and kept the second copy with him to give back to her. He looked around his room comfortably before turning off the light and leaving. There was only one place of importance to go now. The spiral stairs in the corner of the room. He wondered where they went. They were the same weird kind of black marble as the coffee table and the fireplace. He walked up them quickly, not sure how much time he had left.

They led him to a hallway with a few more doors. At the end of the hallway was a sliding Plexiglas door. He slid it open slowly and walked out onto the most elaborately beautiful balcony he'd ever seen, made of the black marble and with rose vines carved into the railings. The beautiful red roses were the most vibrant color red he'd ever seen. The balcony itself looked out over the Black Lake, in which the moon was reflected, a perfect view of the lake and more beautiful than he remembered ever seeing it.

He didn't have time to check the other rooms. He had to get down to the Great Hall for the feast. He found himself running down the Grand Staircase. He calmed his breathing before walking into the Great Hall.

She was the only one who noticed him walk in. Everyone else was concentrated on the end of the sorting, but she was waiting for him. She wanted to know what he'd do. In his hands… was her sketchbook, but something felt wrong. He didn't go to the Slytherin table. He instantly walked over to the Gryffindor table. She sat alone on the end where nobody noticed her. He sat beside her, though, without hesitation.

"You left this in the carriage," he told her quietly as the Ravenclaw table cheered their new addition happily. He handed her the familiar black sketchbook and she took it. The spell she'd created and put on herself was sending her magical warnings and feelings that she couldn't read.

"Did you look?" she asked him emotionlessly as she took it and put it on her lap, pretending that nothing was bothering her. It was something she'd learned to do very well.

"No," he said. There was another magical ping in her consciousness, but he wasn't lying. It was something else. "Did you want me to read it? Because I want to." She quickly sorted out the thoughts her charm had given her. _Lie, haven't read it __**yet**__, other, new_… and she tried to figure out what it meant. New. Not yet. Suddenly she grinned.

"You duplicated it," she said. He blinked, stunned. Before he could even form a reply to defend or apologize, though she didn't seem to be angry with him, the Headmaster stood up and spoke.

"Welcome and welcome back," Dumbledore said, "I'm sure that this year will be another fun year of avoiding schoolwork and playing pranks on fellow students." People grinned, laughed and cheered. Hermione didn't do anything at all. The sparkles in her eyes didn't even move at this small instance of humor from the Headmaster.

"This year will be a bit different than usual," he continued, "because, obviously, we have disbanded the school uniforms. This, however, isn't going to be the only change for the year. It will please you to know that we will be developing social activities. There will be three dances and two talent shows this year, as well as a drama club that shall perform plays like in muggle schools. All will be planned and headed by our Head Boy and Head Girl.

"Draco Malfoy, of Slytherin house," he said. Draco stood. "Yet he… seems to be sitting at the Gryffindor table. This brings me to Hermione Granger, Gryffindor house." Hermione stood, emotionless. Her sparkly skulls and eyes sparkled in a neutral way, not going crazy like when she was happy.

There were gasps and whispers, especially from the rest of the Gryffindor table and from the Slytherin table across the hall. The teachers looked confused, scanning the table in hopes to find the old Hermione sitting there. For _**surely**_ this could not be the perfect, know it all Hermione Granger they'd known for the past six years. Yet… when they did not find her, they were forced to believe that it was true. This terrifyingly… devastatingly gorgeous young woman was Hermione Granger.

"Please return to your own table, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, though not unkindly. Draco obeyed with a backwards glance at Hermione. She remained emotionless as she sat back down at her table, all eyes on her.

When the feast ended, she was more than glad to leave. She ignored the awed stares of her fellow Gryffindors, but would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her run from them. She kept her face neutral and her pace leisurely as she walked up the Grand Staircase beside them. She even ignored Ginny as she choked "Hermione?" quietly. She hadn't decided yet if she wanted to talk to Ginny or not.

Draco was right behind her. He found her standing alone in front of the angel portrait on the fifth floor. He stood behind her for a few moments and let himself think of her. Not for long, though. He wouldn't let himself obsess, though he was sure it was far too late to stop himself. Even though he tried not to, he found himself disobeying his own orders frequently and his mind wandered to thoughts of her.

He finally appeared behind her and she turned around, somehow knowing he was there when he hadn't made a sound to indicate it.

"I'm sorry," he told her instantly, having thought about exactly what to say during the feast, "I shouldn't have duplicated your book. It was really, really bad and I'll do anything to make it up to you after I give back the copy I-" he stopped because she was smiling. She wasn't angry, and… she was smiling! Though it was a small change in theory, in reality it was such a difference that it took away his breath and froze the thoughts in his head. The sparkles came back and spun like crazy for him and she began to glow again.

"I left it on purpose," she said "but I never thought I would hear you apologize to anyone, not so thoroughly and definitely not to me."

'I… thought we were kind of… friends now," Draco said embarrassedly, looking down at the floor and shuffling his feet. Hermione's smile softened and became kinder. Her glow was warming.

"We are," she said. She turned to the portrait of the angel, and then back to him with a pointed expression on her face. At first he didn't understand, but after thinking about it for a few seconds he knew what she wanted. He frowned.

"She doesn't bite, Hermione," he said quietly. She blushed. He smiled. The way she blushed was more than adorable. Her face, being so pale naturally, turned the most amazing shade of scarlet and she smiled when she blushed, looking down at the ground shyly.

She heard him say her name and felt the warmth of a deep red blush creeping up her neck and onto her face. _**Stupid! What in the bloody hell are you blushing for, you idiot? Stop it right now!**_

"Lets say it together, Hermione," he compromised with her encouragingly as he put his arm around her shoulders. Her exquisite eyes, both intensely frightening and devastatingly lovely, met his for a few moments. It seemed meaningful to him, to look into her eyes like that and watch them sparkle like molten silver… but he was entirely aware of his obsession with her, and anything might seem significant to him. He had to be cautious about the extremity of his own feelings and any actions that might arise from them.

"Responsibility," they said in unison, Hermione's voice just louder than a whisper. The angel stared at them for a few moments, then nodded. The door swung open and they walked in together. Hermione looked around the room silently. He couldn't read her reaction to it on her face… but that didn't surprise him. Something else did. Without so much as a glance for warning, she turned to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

Before he could react through his suddenly dazed state, she let go of him. He looked down at her for a few moments.

"What was that for?" he asked quietly, still confused. He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a hug so much. In the few seconds he had to process the thought, he found that the answer was 'never'. Hermione looked back up at him silently for a few moments, then walked past him. She'd already found the door to her room.

He'd already memorized her perfect walk, but watched as she walked away from him… a new sadness in him. He liked her hug better than her walking away. He wanted to run after her and pull her close to him again; to hug her back. He forced himself to stay where he was as she opened the door and turned to him. There, on her perfect sparkling lips was a smile he had seen many times… on himself. She was smirking his own trademark smirk at him, and he found that he was forcing himself to stay where he was for a new, though similar, reason.

"I felt like it," she said, before closing her door. Draco stood and stared at her door for a few moments, still dazed. He finally walked back to his bedroom and got dressed for bed.

Hermione kept her eyes closed and her hands on the door for a few moments, staring at it. From the inside it was different. It was… familiar somehow. The room behind her was bright. She turned around and felt a deep and instantaneous dread.

The room was decently sized with very few objects inside. The floor was made of light-colored wood. On the wall opposite the door were windows covered in dark green velvet curtains. About four feet away from the window, up against the wall to her right sat the queen-sized bed with off white and red orange bedding. Across from the bed was a floor-length mirror with a thin black outer frame. Beside the bed was an end table that held an expensive, ocher colored lamp.

She gasped and closed her eyes, throwing her hands over her face. She sucked in deep breaths before pulling out her wand and waving it. All the light in the room disappeared and she opened her eyes again, unable to see anything.

"Accio pajamas," she whispered. She heard them coming at her and grabbed them from midair without even thinking. She quickly changed and left the room. She couldn't be in there any longer. Instead she laid out on the couch and starred into the fire for a long while.

He looked down at the copy of Hermione's sketchbook. He began to think about her. Even thinking about her was making him smile. She was right on the other side of the bathroom between them. He'd see her the next day, and… every day for the rest of the year. Together they would patrol the halls as well as plan all the dances, the drama club and the talent shows. The both of them would plan everything fun that the school would do that year, and he couldn't wait to begin.

She'd hugged him. He'd loved it… but hadn't been able to hug her back because she'd startled him. He hoped she would hug him again and give him the chance to hug her back. She had also smirked his smirk at him. Nobody had ever been able to do it right, and many had tried, but Hermione smirking at him like that had been more than perfect and had made him happy in ways that he was ashamed to think about.

He was consumed by the thought of her, and he knew it. She was beautiful, funny and playful… all things that he liked about her. She even _**wanted**_ him to look at her sketchbook. She wanted him to know why she'd changed. He thought he was ready as he opened the book.

Consumed in his thoughts of her, Draco Malfoy was wrong. Not ready for what Hermione's book had to show him.


	4. Chapter Three: Truth

**Chapter Three**

**Truth**

He opened the book to the first page. The paper was thick and heavy, cleanly white and neat in places it wasn't drawn on. The first page was a title page. It said in big, beautifully written letters "This book belongs to Hermione Jade Granger." Draco memorized her perfectly beautiful handwriting before turning the page.

He turned the page slowly and carefully, making sure not to mess up the neatness and perfection in the book, even though it was technically his own copy. He would never have to give it back to her because she already had one, and this was his.

He found himself looking at the picture he'd seen bits of on the train. The one Hermione had been touching up. Now he saw the whole thing and felt amazement. It was complete perfection. Drawn only in pencil, the picture spanned over two pages. Hermione was lying on her side with her knees to her chest, crying into them. Her hand fell over the side of her bed. In her hand was a piece of paper with the words "Broken Hearted" in big black letters. A foot away from the end of her bed was a broken mirror. There were actual reflections in the mirror. The reflection showed the bottom of the footboard of the bed and the broken glass on the floor as well as a broken desk lamp.

The picture was a muggle picture because it didn't move, but there was an indescribable sort of magic in it. Draco was sure that he starred at that picture for a very long time as he tried to find something wrong with it. He couldn't. He understood everything about it, and it told a story. She'd been broken up with, gotten angry and threw the lamp at the mirror. He was sad for her. On the curtain was a poem.

_**Dead**_ _**in my mind,**_

_**Cold**_ _**to the bone,**_

_**I**_ _**open**__** my eyes**_

_**And **__**realize**_

_**That I'm**_

_**Alone.**_

The pages were numbered. He turned the page and saw a piece of broken mirror, held by a hand. In the mirror was Hermione's crying face. He stared at the perfection of the way her face had looked before. She was still beautiful, though sad and not the same as the Hermione he wanted now. Not as beautiful to him, but still beautiful. More beautiful than the angel portrait, less beautiful than she was now. The picture itself was perfection, getting the angles of her face and shadows of the lighting perfectly. The light would be right in front of her, if the picture had been a photograph.

The next page was different. It was a portrait of Ronald Weasley, from the shoulders up, like a bust… but a drawing instead of a statue. It was titled "Not the One." Below his picture was a little saying in Hermione's handwriting.

_**No boy is worth crying over,**_

_**And the one who is would never**_

_**Make you cry.**_

Weasley had broken her heart. Draco thought for a long moment before making a mental note in reminder to hurt him later. She was depressed because of him… or not. He turned the page and saw a new kind of picture on the next page. It was nothing to do with her breakup with the Weasel. A girl lay in a hospital bed, asleep. There were tubes everywhere, which made him assume that she wasn't just asleep. She was in a coma.

The girl in the bed had long, wavy hair but he could see none of her other features. She was badly burned and cut and bruised on her face. Two women stood next to the girl in the hospital bed. Both looked extremely anxious and were crying in motionless silence. One was Hermione, still looking like her old self. The other was shorter than Hermione, very thin and slightly sickly looking. She wore glasses and her hair seemed to be coming out of a now not-so-neat bun. On the next page was a description.

_**Amber Rose-**_

_**Amber Rose was my best friend. She had beautiful, long brown hair and the most amazing dark blue eyes ever. She was five feet and seven inches tall with the most lovely, perfectly strong face structure. Until the accident. On June 22, a truck ran her car off of the road. Her father, who had been driving the car, died almost instantly. He saved her life.**_

The page was turned again. This picture was in a cemetery. Hermione was placing a perfectly bloomed rose on a coffin. The rose reminded him of the ivory roses in the kitchen and the rose vine on the balcony upstairs. Hermione had her hand over her mouth had tears running down her face. The gravestone was just a plaque in the ground, and on the top of the page read-

Here lies Amber Rose Johnson. Dearest daughter, sweetest sister and best friend. Born June 29, 1980. Died June 24, 1998.

Draco found himself fighting hard not to throw up in complete horror. He didn't want to keep looking at the book, but he wanted to know why Hermione was the way she was. He felt like there was more. He turned the page to find that he was right. This page was labeled "A Rare and Happy Moment." They were in a hospital again, and this made Draco reluctant to look further when he realized… still, he kept his eyes glued firmly to the page.

A woman lay in a hospital bed. Hermione and a man stood beside the bed, beaming. Each person gazed lovingly and happily at the baby that slept in the woman's arms. "Emma Rene Granger was born June 30th," read a caption at the bottom. He found himself smiling at the picture. She had a baby sister. At least, in all of the bad things that had happened to Hermione, this was something good.

The next page was untitled. It took place in another cemetery, over another coffin. This coffin was very, very small. The grave statue was of a baby angel smiling up at the sky, and a ray of sun beat down onto it. The plaque said "Rest in peace, Emma Rene Granger. Born June 30th, 1998. Died July 1st, 1998. No chance to live, no reason to die."

Draco threw up in the trash bin beside his bed. He couldn't believe he was so affected by things that hadn't happened to him. He was definitely sad for his newest friend, but knew he shouldn't be reacting so harshly to everything. It was his sudden and complete fascination with her that caused this reaction in him, and he knew it. He felt so pathetic to think he was so infatuated with her so quickly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still feeling nauseated.

The only good thing that had happened to her had been taken away. Too quickly, even, to savor the moment of happiness. He turned the pages and looked at the dates. Her best friend had gotten into a car accident and had died two days later. The day after what would have been her best friend's birthday, Emma had been born. The next day she'd died. Two deaths of two important people in only one week.

Still… the pictures were still of Hermione the way she had been. This told him that there was more to see, and he battled with himself for nearly ten minuets before deciding to continue looking. He opened the book he'd closed and turned the pages until he found the one he hadn't seen yet.

This page was mostly blank. At the top was the title "I didn't know". Right below it was the word "_**gioco**_" and a little swirl-like design. He'd read enough spell books to know that that was a spell. He picked his wand up off of his bedside table and did the spell, apparently correctly.

The spell faded out as the drawing faded in and began to move like a muggle film. The title stayed exactly where it was. Hermione and two people, her parents he knew from the hospital picture, sat in a room that he guessed was the living room. Hermione still looked like her old self, which instantly filled him with dread. That meant there would be even more to see after this one. Following the scheme of the other pictures, he was sure this one wouldn't show any good news.

Hermione was sitting in a big, comfortable-looking chair. Her knees were up and her sketchbook sat against them like an easel. She was wearing baggy pajama pants and a tank top. Her dad was asleep on the other side of the living room. Her mom was cleaning up a little, though there really wasn't much to clean up. There was a knock on the door and Draco could hear it.

Hermione's mom looked up towards the door, which was blocked by a wall that seemed to lead into a hallway. Hermione pulled her sketchbook to her chest as her mom walked behind her chair to get to the door. Her mom lightly brushed her hair as she walked by and Hermione flinched. She obviously didn't like being touched, but her mom didn't even notice.

Suddenly there was a scream. Hermione jumped up and pulled out her wand as her sketchbook fell neatly to the floor. Her mother ran back into the living room and a group of five people followed her. Three wore Ministry of Magic robes and the other two were wearing obviously expensive clothes. Robes, but for every day rather than work at the Ministry of Magic. All three Ministry people had their wands pointed at all three of the Grangers.

One of the two Ministry wizards disarmed Hermione and pulled her away from her mother. The other Ministry wizard kept his wand pointed at Mr. Granger, who'd woken up when Mrs. Granger had screamed. The Ministry witch kept her wand pointed at Mrs. Granger and Hermione struggled to break free from the wizard holding her.

The witch and wizard wearing expensive robes stood in the middle of everything, looking only at Hermione. They didn't draw their wands to protect themselves or defend anyone else… they just stared at Hermione. The woman was beautiful. She looked a little like what Hermione had become. She had long dark hair and a soft face structure, though her face held none of the magic Hermione's did. The man, too, was handsome. His hair, though short, was also dark colored and perfect.

"What did they do to her?" the beautiful woman asked the man holding Hermione, who stopped struggling. She was too confused to struggle anymore. The woman sounded utterly confused. "Are you sure this is her?"

"Yes it's her," the man said. He seemed to think it was safe to let go of Hermione, because he did so. She didn't move an inch. He still had a wand and she didn't. "They've used advanced transfiguration spells to change her features." Hermione looked around the room, confused and trapped. Her parents looked confused, angry and… cautious. Like they were trying not to make a wrong move.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked slowly. It was obvious that she felt she was missing something.

"Where are your wands?" the head ministry man asked Hermione's parents, ignoring Hermione's own question. He pointed his own at them threateningly.

"They don't _**have**_ wands!" she yelled angrily. "They're muggles." Again, the Ministry man ignored her. This time, however, there was good reason. Hermione's dad spoke up just as her sentence ended.

"Top drawer of the end table in our bedroom," he said quietly, "it's locked."

The label of the drawing changed as he said this. It changed to "The Truth". The head ministry man, the one with a wand aimed at Hermione, jerked his head. The only ministry woman walked away and Hermione looked at her parents more confused than ever. They refused to look back at her.

"Jadyn," the man without a wand said longingly to Hermione, who seemed to get more confused by the second. It amazed Draco that the expressions on her face could be so life-like when they'd been only drawn. She furrowed her eyebrows at the man.

"Hermione," the Ministry wizard said, "the Grangers are not your real parents, and they are not muggles." Hermione looked at Mr. And Mrs. Granger. Mrs. Granger glared at the Ministry wizard, avoiding Hermione's eyes. Mr. Granger still didn't move, looking down at the floor of his living room.

"They're Death Eaters," he continued with disgust, "and they were trying to get information about Harry Potter from you."

"What?" Hermione said, disbelieving, "that doesn't even make any sense. Even _**if **_they weren't muggles, how would they know I'd be friends with Harry? I have pictures of my first birthday here. I've lived here my whole life."

"It _**does**_ make sense," he said, "Jane is a prophetess. She knew before you were even born that you were going to be friends with Harry Potter. She and her husband kidnapped you from your real parents when you were nine. They used magic to cover up all your memories and change your appearance. It isn't difficult to create pictures with magic, Hermione."

The ministry woman came back with two wands. The emotion on Hermione's face as this happened was… perfectly shown in the picture… and devastating. It was devastation in itself. The sadness and betrayal on her face was unmatched as the tears gathered in her eyes.

"These are your real parents," the head Ministry wizard said, "Lisa and Alex James."

"Jadyn!" Lisa cried, running foreword and sitting next to Hermione, but not touching her.

"Lisa!" Alex said reproachfully, whispering. It was obviously meant for only her ears, but Hermione must have heard it. "Don't call her that. She thinks she's spent her whole life as Hermione Granger. She can't _**be**_ Jadyn James anymore."

Draco watched the little drawing of Hermione. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to her biological parents. He sincerely wished he could jump into the drawing and comfort the beautiful crying girl. Half of him wanted to know what she was thinking… the other half was sure he wouldn't be able to handle it. The picture faded out.

Draco couldn't even _**believe**_ the things he saw on that page. He wanted to talk to her, but there had to be more. He would talk to her when he was finished… if he could force himself to continue. He hoped it was almost done.

The drawing on the next page was labeled "Jadyn James". It was as though she'd taken a picture of a collage. Pictures of a girl shone up at him. She had long, extremely black hair and a perfect white face. They were pictures of her childhood and she'd drawn them onto the paper. Memories of the memories that the Grangers had taken from her.

The page after this was called "Changes". A flawless drawing of the old Hermione stood next to a plus sign. Beside this was a drawing of Hermione's wand and a minus sign. The word "Granger" was put here before an equals sign and the new Hermione. She'd used parts of herself as Hermione Granger and some of herself as Jadyn James with magic to create Hermione Jade Granger.


	5. Chapter Four: Friends

**Chapter Four**

**Friends**

She was lying silently on the couch. He could see the sparkles of her eyes moving gently, so he knew she was awake. In his head she was beautiful, in his thoughts of her, but he'd forgotten how beautiful she was in person. When she looked up at him, all his concern melted and he forgot what he was doing or why he was there.

"I seem to have that effect on you, Draco," she said, smiling slightly, "Don't forget." He blinked a few times and tried to remember. Still, her words had confused him.

"How do you _**do**_ that?" he asked, confused. "You know what I'm thinking sometimes… or like how you knew that I duplicated your book."

"It's a spell of my own design," she said, "I call it a "Knowledge Spell". Whenever people look at me, think about me or do anything that has to do with me, I know it. Like lying, for instance. If you lie to me, I know you're lying and get little hints as to what the truth would be. I just use intelligence for the rest."

He walked a little bit closer to her and she moved over to make room for him on the couch. He sat down and looked at her.

"Why would you do that?" he asked.

"I… don't remember," she told him. He knew she was lying, but if she didn't want to tell him he wasn't going to pry. Hopefully someday she'd just _**want**_ to tell him.

"So… you hear everything I think about you?" he asked, looking into the fire instead of at her. That would _**not**_ be a good thing. Even he was annoyed by how much he thought about her and the thoughts he had.

"No," she clarified, smiling, "I just know _**when**_ you're thinking about me. I'd need Legilimency to know _**what**_ you're thinking… or you could just tell me what you're thinking." She smiled and he melted in her eyes.

"I think… you're absolutely gorgeous," he told her quietly. She smiled, the sparkles in her eyes shimmering faster. He smiled shyly at her, realizing as he did so that he couldn't remember ever being shy around anyone in his entire life. It didn't bother him… it was just an interesting thought. "I think… a lot of bad things have happened to you in a short amount of time."

She looked into the fire. It looked as though she were calm as she did it… except that the sparkles in her eyes were going wild. He'd assumed this only happened when she was happy, but realized he was wrong. It happened during any intense amount of emotion.

"Yes," was her only verbal response.

"Why are you out here?" he asked suddenly. A frown slowly found its way onto her face as she stared into the fire, refusing to look up at him. Sparkles weren't the only thing in her eyes now as moisture slowly filled them. She closed her eyes calmly and didn't let any tears fall.

"My room looks just like it did at… the Granger house," she replied quietly. "After… so many bad things happened while I lived there, right before the Ministry and my… real family came… I'd already stopped sleeping in that room. It reminded me of too many sleepless, tear filled nights. Now it reminds me of the family that pretended to love me for what I thought was my whole life."

She opened her eyes again and they no longer held any tears. The sparkles in her eyes still swirled wildly but she had control over the physical manifestation of her feelings. Within that second a million thoughts went through his head. Numbness was all he felt in his body as the nervous thought went through his mind. The second passed and so did the numbness as his decision was made.

He hugged her. She was surprised for a second, but leaned her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was slightly embarrassed because he knew she could feel his heart beating like Native American war drums in his chest, but more relieved because she hadn't pushed him away or yelled at him. There was also the triumph and happiness he felt because she was so close to him.

She smelled sweet. A smell he didn't recognize… though it kind of reminded him of oranges or tangerines. It was stronger and sweeter than that, more beautiful and… enchanting. He could feel the hair on her back, soft and glossy. He noticed that she'd changed into a black, spaghetti strap tank top and baggy black sweat pants that had a shimmering golden skull on the top. He lightly put his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes to savor the moment that he knew would pass far too quickly.

He smelled good. It was a somehow sweet, very earthy smell. It was a nice mixture of the way everything smells before it rains and some sort of sweet smelling fruit. There was a faint smell of trees or freshly mown grass, too. He was wearing plaid blue pajama pants and a black short-sleeved t-shirt. It showed off the muscles of the arms that were wrapped around her.

His embrace was strong and comfortable… he was warm and the sweetness of the reason he'd hugged her definitely didn't take away from the perfection of the moment. She buried her head in his chest and took a deep breath, feeling his heartbeat on her face as she did so. It was very fast, but still somehow calming.

She knew that she'd have to be the one to end the close contact… he found her far too irresistible to do it himself. Though she definitely didn't show it, she was terrified to find that she didn't want to let go. She forced herself to gently pull away. He smiled at her and she smiled back. She leaned back on the couch and looked over at him.

"Thanks," she said with a sigh, looking back into the fire with a small smile on her face. "I kind of needed that." He smiled.

"I noticed," he said casually, but his heart still beat like crazy. "Hey… what's your favorite color?" She laughed and the sparkles in her eyes shone brightly.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well… because we agreed that we're friends now," he said, "and I don't know you very well… so I want to get to know you better." She smiled and the sparkles in her eyes calmed themselves, spinning in a serene way. She began to glow again and he smiled back at her.

"My favorite color… is that," she said, pointing to the rich blood red carpet. "Yours?"

"Green," he said. They talked for a while about things like that. Favorite colors, foods, classes, teachers etc. Draco wasn't at all surprised to find that he remembered everything she told him. He was foolishly enamored on her and he knew it. He didn't even have to _**try**_ to remember the things she told him. It was effortless.

There was no light in the room. The fire had gone out and there were no windows in their common room. Draco was first conscious of Hermione. Her head was rested against his chest and her arms were wrapped around his waist. One of his hands was on the armrest of the couch and the other rested gently on the soft black hair that fell down Hermione's back. He could smell the beautiful sweet tangerine smell and feel her perfect, soft ivory white skin on his arm.

He debated on whether to wake her up or not. His watch said that there were still a few hours before they even had to be awake, but he wasn't tired. He would have been quite content to sit there and pretend he was asleep when she woke up, but when she did that charm she had made and put on herself would tell her that he was really awake and there'd be no point.

He grinned as he thought of what to do. His carefully pulled his wand out of his pocket and moved Hermione off him reluctantly and laid her on the couch, making sure she didn't wake up. Another day, he hoped. He walked quietly one of the two doors with golden plaques on them. The words "Hermione Jade Granger" made him smile as he twisted the door handle and walked in, closing it quietly behind him.

Hermione found herself confused as things began to register in her consciousness when she started to wake up. She was lying on her side with one of her hands under a soft, fluffy pillow. A soft, medium weight comforter covered her body and she heard a fan blowing softly somewhere in the distance. It was dark and comfortably cool in the room.

She opened her eyes and couldn't see anything. She felt the pillows and the blanket. None of it felt like the blankets in her bedroom. It flashed through her mind for a moment that maybe she was in Draco's room, but she highly doubted it. He was thinking about her, she could feel because of her Knowledge Charm. He wasn't anywhere near her, though. If he were going to put her in his room, he would at least take the chance to be close to her.

She had no idea whatsoever where she was. She swung her feet over the bed and felt a wooden floor beneath her feet. She reached out and found nothing. If she'd been in her room, there would have been a table there. She crawled to the other side of the bed and found a small wooden end table with an odd metal lamp on it.

Finding the switch, she turned on the light and looked around. The bed she had been laying on was her favorite shade of deep red with tiny gold thread designs in it. The pillows, like the comforter, were either red or gold. The floor under her feet was a beautiful kind of dark brown. The bed was up against the wall opposite where she was used to her bed being.

Where the Plexiglas door in her own bedroom had been there were two medium sized windows with red and gold curtains over them. When she opened the curtains she saw that the windows looked out onto the Black Lake. The sun was just beginning to rise. She turned to keep looking at the room she was in, confused as to where she was. The end table matched the floor in dark brown wood. The lamp on the end table was metal with a bendy neck and a red plastic 'lamp shade'.

The walls were all the same blood red as everything else and had a texture as though they were painted with a sponge or a rag. At the top of these textured red walls was golden crown molding in beautiful, intricate designs. In one of the corners, the one closest to the door, a bookshelf held all of her books. The bookshelf itself was the same dark brown color as the floor and end table, a corner bookshelf that spanned across to the door and to a medium sized wooden desk on the adjacent wall.

In the corner closest to her bed was a dark brown armoire. Each of the doors had a design on them of one golden heart on top of one golden upside down heart. All of the designs were gold and painted onto the beautiful brown wood of the armoire. Inside were all of her clothes, neatly hung and folded. It was the most beautiful thing in the room… besides maybe the bed.

It was beautiful. Everything was completely perfect… by the placing of the door and common sense; she knew that this was her room. On the end table was a piece of rolled up parchment. She knew who it was from before even opening it. She unrolled it and looked down at it smilingly.

_**Hermione,**_

_**I didn't want to wake you and there was still hours before I even had to be awake. I knew how much you hated the way it looked before; I was hoping you wouldn't have to sleep in the common room every night. I hope you like it.**_

_**Draco**_.

She knew she was glowing. She could feel the warm heat all over as the happiness inside her showed itself magically. She smiled happily before putting the parchment back on the table. She took a while picking out the right clothes for the day and carried them into the bathroom for a shower.

He scanned the Great Hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of her enchanting sparkles or ivory white skin. He hoped she'd liked what he'd done for her. Even more he hoped she wouldn't be angry with him. He'd touched her stuff without her permission and moved her off of the couch without asking.

"Draco?" someone said. He turned the speaker but didn't quite see them. He focused in as a third year continued speaking and handed him something. "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to give this to you."

She looked down at the parchment in Dennis Creevy's hand for a second before taking it with a nod, not speaking but thanking him in her own way. She walked away and she could feel his eyes on her as she did so. She sat on a bench to read the parchment.

_**Ms. Hermione Jadyn Granger**_

_**Please come to my office before your first class. I have directions to give both you and Mr. Malfoy for the rest of the year.**_

She was already there by the time he arrived. She sat in a chair with her back to him, but there was no mistaking the perfect blackness of her hair or the ivory white of her hand that she was using to play with her hair. The second she felt him looking at her, she turned around. The glow he'd noticed the day before was there again and her eyes sparkled crazily as she stood up and ran towards him.

She was in his arms again. He was enveloped by her perfect sweet tangerine smell, the feel of her long black hair and her perfect ivory skin. She jumped up to hug him and bent her knees as he held her weight easily. He swayed slightly with a smile on his face, eyes closed as he buried his face in her hair.

She was in his arms again. She could smell that sweet earthiness on him as she inhaled inconspicuously. She lifted her legs off of the ground and his arms were easily strong enough to hold her up as he pulled her close to him. She buried her face in his chest and felt his heartbeat the way she had the night before, though it was calmer now than it had been then.

"It was perfect," she told him as she forced herself to stand properly again. She still stood close to him as she whispered thankfully in his ear. "Thank you, Draco."

He felt the embrace ending and wanted to hold tighter, but did nothing but inhale calmly so that when they did let go, he could still smell the sweet orange. It didn't last long, but he was still happy to have it a bit longer. They both sat down in front of a serenely smiling Professor Dumbledore.

"You will both have a very busy year," he told them instantly. "You'll be hosting auditions and co-directing the school drama club, planning each school dance, hosting auditions and planning the talent shows and still will have much school work to be doing. You'll also need to patrol the corridors to make sure there's no wrongdoing going on. Are you both up for it?"

As he said the last sentence, he looked directly at Hermione and they both knew whom he was asking. Draco didn't know that Dumbledore knew everything… but it made sense. He was a well-connected wizard and would have wanted to know why Hermione's middle name had been changed.

"Yes," Draco said as Hermione nodded. They talked a little before Dumbledore gave them a bunch of papers with schedules and rules on them. They had a little less than a week to pick a play and start auditions. They _**had**_ to have the auditions for the talent show next Saturday. The talent show would be at the end of the month.

Back in the hallway, Hermione turned to Draco and he looked into her sliver, pupil-less eyes.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked.

"Your room?" he asked. She nodded. "Because… you're my friend."


	6. Chapter Five: Mistake

**Chapter Six**

**Mistake**

"You can't do this," was the first thing he said. Of course, she didn't answer him. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn't say anything unless she had to. Instead, however, she looked at him with an expression with such an obvious meaning he would have had to be really thick to not understand. Indignant. Who was he to tell her what she could and couldn't do? "You're not the only one with problems, Jadyn James!"

She glared and stepped closer, pushing him firmly by the shoulders. He took a step back. It hadn't hurt. She hadn't been trying to hurt him. She'd just wanted to show him her displeasure for the use of the name she'd only recently discovered was hers.

"Okay, okay," he said, rolling his eyes, "_**Hermione**_, he has problems too and you're not going to do anything to help him. You can't even help your_**self**_."

She pushed him again, harder this time, glaring furiously at him.

"I'm helping you!" he said, "and I'm helping him. I only have what's best for both of you in mind. But I can't let you do this. You can't be together in any way more than friends, Hermione. I won't let you."

She pushed him up against a pillar and he seemed winded. It had hurt, but she'd wanted it to.

"Your mum told me to take care of you," he said, walking foreword. "She knew you'd need it… and so did I. No offense, but you're really a mess." Hermione smacked him clear across the face and the sound reverberated around them. He swore.

"This is none of your business," she said angrily, speaking to Blaise for the first time since she'd learned the truth, "I don't know what's going to happen, I don't know what I _**want**_ but I know that you have no right to tell me what to do!"

"I'm you're cousin, Jadyn," he said quietly, looking at the floor in the hopes that she wouldn't hurt him again, "I'm just trying to help you… please listen to me. This isn't good." She was silent, glaring at him. He looked up. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I want, and you're not going to stop me," she said, "because you can't. Try again and I'll hex you." She glared at him for a moment before walking up the stairs behind him and towards her common room. She knew Draco would be there… and now she knew exactly how he felt. She could feel two people thinking about her fervently. One, her cousin. The other, Draco. She didn't know what she was going to do or say. She just… needed to see him.

He looked up at her when she walked in. As always she was perfectly beautiful. He was learning her emotions, though she hid them better than anyone he'd ever met. She was anxious and excited about something. Her eyes were nervous, but they brightened slightly when they met his.

"Hey," she said with easy casualty.

"Hey," he said back, obviously not nearly as calm as she was. She frowned with concern at him and he felt stupid. He wished he could do that calm act like she could.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. He didn't answer right away. He wasn't going to lie, but he didn't want to tell her the truth. The truth about how completely obsessed with her he'd realized he was. The truth about how much he wanted to be near her all the time. About how much he wanted to hold her and make that nervousness he still saw in her eyes disappear and to never let anything bad happen to her ever again.

"Nothing's… wrong, exactly," he said.

"Then what's right?" she asked, smiling. He smiled back; unable to stay unhappy when she looked at him like that. The nervousness he felt, however, did nothing but grow.

"Nothing's right," he said, honestly, "but nothing's wrong."

"Ooh, complex," she said, sitting down next to him on the couch. "Do tell." He smiled at her easy playfulness. She knew, of course, what was happening. He was trying to think of how to tell her how he felt. She could see the anxiousness and sadness in his eyes. She wondered why he was sad, knowing only his realization of his feelings… but why would he be sad? She didn't know.

"I don't know how," he said, "I don't really get it myself yet. How about I think things out and then I tell you?" She frowned inwardly. He noticed only because the small happy glow around her evaporated. He felt bad, but honestly didn't know how to tell her.

"Yeah, that's fine," she lied, smiling. Still calm.

"I wish I could do that," he said suddenly, not even thinking. She looked genuinely confused and he felt genuinely _**stupid**_. They'd talked about her sketchbook and her room and he'd told her that he thought she was gorgeous. However, they'd never talked in depth about how much she had changed. He wasn't sure how she'd react. "That… calm thing. You showed me your sketchbook, so I know you're not naturally a calm person. Life would be a lot easier if I could do that, too."

"Easier maybe," she agreed slowly after a while, looking away from him. Her eyes seemed far away, like she was looking at something that only she could see, "but not any better. Easy and right are different. Faking happiness is easier… sometimes what I pretend to be can become what I really am… for a while, but its just a muggle magic trick. When the lights go down, when the curtains close… everything goes back to normal and I can see the lie for what it really is. Everything that's happened to me and around me still happened. When I'm alone with just my thoughts and the audience has all gone home… there's no magic. I can't make my true feelings disappear."

As he had the night before when she'd told him about how her room made her feel, he hugged her. This time it didn't take as much effort to work up the courage, but the physical and emotional reactions were the same. His heart beat extremely fast with excitement. He was relieved that she didn't push him away and triumphant at her touch. The sweet tangerine scent of her skin and hair was almost overwhelmingly amazing.

His embrace was as strong and comfortable as the night before… he was warm. She doubted she'd be _**able**_ to let go of him this time. She buried her head in his chest and took a deep breath, feeling his heartbeat on her face. As with last night it was speeding rapidly, as though trying to burst from his chest, but still calming. It was the only measure of time as they embraced, neither wanting to let go. Neither able. It began to slow considerably, though still faster than it should have been.

Neither said a word, but there was no need. Any words they could have come up with would have sounded awkward and ruined the perfection of this moment… which seemed short, but really wasn't. Hermione, in the comfort of the moment, fell asleep. Draco played with her hair gently while she slept before falling asleep himself.

He woke first, the way he had the day before. His arms gently pulled Hermione even closer than she already was, holding her tight. She shifted slightly and comfortably, not waking from her deep sleep. He wouldn't move today. He would breathe in the scent of her hair and memorize the feel of her perfect, ivory skin against his hands. He would remember this forever.

She knew he was awake when she woke up. She knew she should have sat up and left. She knew she shouldn't let herself lay there as he ran his fingers lightly up and down her arms and inhaled slowly and deeply the scent of her hair. She knew she shouldn't keep pretending to be asleep, breathing deeply the scent of him. The sweet earthy rain smell that made her charm act up and her body start to glow.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" he asked, noticing the warm glow that surrounded her and engulfed him, the only light in the whole room.

"Yeah," she whispered, not moving from his chest as his heartbeat sped up slightly and became more noticeable. She giggled quietly. "Your heart."

"Yeah," he muttered, embarrassed. He stopped moving his hands on her arms. Everything got slightly awkward very suddenly. Hermione's glow dulled and flickered out and Draco felt a sudden sense of dread. She wasn't happy anymore. She sat up slowly, not looking at him. Whereas before his hard had been beating wildly, it didn't seem to be beating at all as she pulled away from him. He wanted to pull her back to him.

"We have classes..." she muttered awkwardly. She stood up and started walking away, towards the bedroom he'd modified for her. He panicked. He had to do something. As she reached the door, he stood up and walked towards her as quickly as he could. She turned around and he stopped only a few inches away from her. They stared at each other for a few long moments. He tentatively reached out and cupped her face in his hands. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. Her warm breath hit his face as she exhaled.

He leaned foreword slowly.

Her heart beat fast, too fast. Uncomfortably fast, as he got closer. All senses of comfort and safety had gone. She panicked, gasping and turning her body completely around so her back was facing him. She spread her palms out on her door, breathing heavy and terrified.

"I can't… I can't do this."

And she was gone.

He stood there, staring at the door for a moment. One second her glowing warmth had filled him entirely… the next she had disappeared. All thought had ceased to exist, he had frozen. He was confused. What had happened?

_**NO!**_ And thought began again. No. No. No, no, no, no, no! He'd messed up. He had royally messed up. This was bad, this was very bad… he didn't want this. He wanted… her. He didn't want to scare her, he didn't want…

"Hermione," he called tentatively through the door. He felt her just on the other side. "I'm so sorry, Hermione… please. I'm sorry."

"Please…" Hermione said shakily, "don't touch me, understand I'm scared. I'm not ready… I can't do this."

"I understand, Hermione. I really, really do," he said. "I understand. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

Never… did she want that? She didn't know for sure…

"Just… give me some time alone…" she whispered. He knew not to push her. He went into his room and laid on the bed for a moment.

"_Silens Cella_," he whispered, wand in hand. And knowing she couldn't hear him, he picked up the nearest thing and smashed it hard against the wall. Fuming, he paced back and forth to burn off steam.

He was so… _**stupid!**_ So, so stupid. If she never talked to him again he wouldn't forgive himself. Didn't he _**know**_ what she'd been through? Didn't he _**know**_ how scared she was? Hadn't he spent the _**whole **__**day**_ noticing how she tensed up whenever he got too close to her? And he _**understood**_! But still he'd done the worst thing he could have done, and he'd messed up. And it was all his fault.


End file.
